Lost in Translation
by bittie752
Summary: Something strange is going on. The Doctor has suddenly started propositioning Rose in the worst way possible. Crack fix. Lots of really awful euphemisms.


_At first Rose thought she was hearing things. Because there was no possible way that the Doctor could have promised to show her is meat missile if she ran faster. But it just kept happening. And once he asked her if she wanted a taste of his pleasure popsicle whilst he snacked on her pink taco, she didn't know whether the laugh, slap him or shag him. He deserved all three._

"In here," the Doctor said grabbing her arm and pulling her into an alcove. "We need to be very quiet and very still. Coz you know if you wiggle too much, Rose, the Pinocchio's nose will grow."

"What?" she whispered back.

"You know Pinocchio's nose, in my pants. Now shhh." He held a finger to his lips as footsteps began to echo down the hall.

He held her tight against him as silence encroached upon them once more. Still not sure if the Doctor had been teasing her or not, she decided it was time to test the waters. "Doctor, is that the sonic screwdriver in your pocket or are you just happy to see me."

A small grin pulled on the corners of his mouth. "Rose, you know I keep my sonic in my breast pocket." Now he was grinning manically. "That is my throat spackler."

When the coast was clear he grabbed her hand and took off in the direction of the TARDIS. "Stay close to me Rose. Right now I'm as flaccid as a pink flobber worm but keep excreting those hormones and my Gallifryean trouser python will be making an appearance later this evening. Preferably when I have you pressed against the console with my hand teasing your love canal."

All the way back he just kept talking. "You know this place is really fascinating. We should skip ahead a few years and come back. There is a spot at the top of the mountain where my pocket rocket could shoot off into your final frontier. Oh yes, I think there may even be old altar where we could make the beast with two backs. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

There were no words that she could manage to form right now that would answer his question. He must have taken her stunned silence as confirmation that she wasn't listening to his rambling.

"I'm just saying my rippling sausage is quite impressive. I think that you would enjoy a ride on my tilt-a-whirl." The Doctor said with a casual shrug.

"What the hell?!" Rose said pulling her hand away now they had made it back to the TARDIS. "What's with all the euphemisms? Throbbing manliness? Lance of Love? My FLESH POCKET! What are you playing at? Is this some sorta weird Time Lord mating ritual?"

His eyebrows shot into his hairline. "Fuckity fuck sticks on toast."

He slid his key into the lock and pulled her inside. "What exactly have I been saying? Word for word."

Rose crossed her arms. "You want graphic detail about your pocket rocket?"

His face flushed red as he ran to the console and started twisting dials and punching buttons. "I'm sorry but yes I need to…test a theory."

So she told him about his _tonsil tickler _and how he wanted to caress her_ fun bags_ with his tongue and then plunge his _love tool_ into her _slit of ecstasy_.

By the time that she was done she was over the embarrassment and was now enjoying watching him squirm. "So what's the verdict Doctor? Did you ingest some sort of chemical that's affecting your speech centers?"

"Um no," he swallowed and averted his eyes. "It looks like a theTARDIStranslatoncircuitisbroken."

"The translation circuit is broken? So what all that stuff you've been saying is the TARDIS' fault?"

"Not really, it's more like she didn't filter my mouth."

"So this is how you normally talk?"

"Sort of yeah." The Doctor blushed.

"So you ramble on and on and the entire time you're talking about sex…like a twelve year old?" She was barely able to contain her laughter. "Oh my god. How did you ever think that calling your penis a _hungry dragon_ would be appropriate or sexy?"

He shook his finger at her. "I'll have you know I learned those terms from 21st century literature?"

"What sort of literature?" she asked.

"Fanfiction." He looked away from her. "Brilliant stuff really. People coming together to use their creative talents to celebrate things that they love."

Rose giggled. She'd read some of those sorts of stories. Some were really good. Some were frighteningly bad. Apparently he'd bypassed bad and went straight to train wreck. Suddenly she was determined to make the best of a bad situation.

"You know, Doctor. If you wanted me to see your _stiff rod_ or even if you wanted to introduce it to my _weeping folds_, all you had to do was ask." She slowly ran a hand up his arm.

Excitedly he grabbed her hand and dragged her from the room. "Allons-y, Rose Tyler. It's time to do the horizontal tango."


End file.
